Celebrations
by Lirillith
Summary: [FF6] Looking back, long afterwards, at the first five years after Kefka's defeat.


Celebrations

  


The first time, it started with laughter. Terra, hair blowing about her face, turned to Celes and whispered "We did it." The wind carried her words back to the others, quiet and awed, and then as they hugged Celes repeated the words aloud, joyfully, and they all surged toward the front to hug the two that had had the most to do with it all, the ones who'd started it. They landed at the ruins of Setzer's villa east of Jidoor. That night saw dancing and drinking, for hours, until finally everyone just landed where they were on the deck, almost as one, and things quieted as they mourned the losses along the way. 

In the weeks that followed, Edgar became the center of attention. On the grounds that Celes was the highest-ranking surviving official of the Empire, he had her placed at the head of the ruling council of "Vector" - actually Tzen and Albrook. Maranda hastily elected a mayor and declined to participate in the Republic of Vector. Named for a city that no longer existed and a form of government it did not yet possess, Vector was essentially Edgar's brainchild. Doma, of course, remained sovereign, and was very nearly mortally offended by Edgar's well-meant attempts to offer Cyan the crown. The knight simply insisted "It doesn't work that way," and Edgar eventually gave up, allowing the surviving military to make their own arrangements. Mobliz, consisting basically of a single household and extensive gardens, was elevated to the status of nation as well; previously it had been a colony of Doma's, and a highly profitable one, but its economy was in tatters and Doma could scarcely afford to rebuild itself, let alone its outlying regions. Thamasa had survived both the war and the cataclysm without substantial damage, but almost all of the other borders had changed -- not just because of the shift in the earth's crust, but because of one man's decisions. In every school in Figaro, and most outside its borders, he has an entire upper-division history course to himself. 

The second time, exactly a year later, was different. No longer were they all just friends - they were allies, governments. The year that had passed had seen heavy reconstruction. Refugees had begun pouring into South Figaro once Kefka was defeated, and many were relocated to Doma and Mobliz. Celes was unpopular with the people of Tzen and Albrook, and usually heavily guarded. Her retinue included several "unsavory characters," in the words of the local press; a colorfully dressed, self-described treasure hunter stood out, but the quiet man who called himself "Baram" didn't. Vector was, at least, recovering economically. Cyan still refused to claim the throne of Doma, holding it sacred, but he agreed to take the archaic title of shogun until economic stability gave them the luxury of democracy. Terra oversaw Mobliz and represented it internationally, although the handful of settlers ruled by consensus. Jidoor and Figaro were the oases of stability, the only powers to make it through Kefka's rule relatively unscathed. 

That second celebration, the first anniversary, was different in nature as well - a formal ball rather than an impromptu party. But it was, if anything, more festive. The losses and wounds had healed with time, and for all the frustrations of governing, they were hopeful about the future, proud of what they had already accomplished. And the anniversary ball was a welcome vacation. Nothing of note was said or done, according to the historians, but observers at the time noticed that Locke and Celes spoke little to each other and did not share a dance, although both seemed cheerful and friendly enough with everyone else. She confided to Terra that they had quarreled over the guard - she felt it should be reduced, both as a cost-cutting gesture (the government's budget had become controversial) and a symbol of faith in the populace. Locke felt that such behavior was foolish, and while their relationship had never progressed past casual flirtation, they were close enough friends that the argument turned personal and things were said in the heat of anger. 

Two weeks later, with no thaw between them, he resigned his position as head of her guard and departed for parts unknown. 

The second anniversary had an air of forced gaiety. The early stages of the recovery were past, and while life was immeasurably better than it had been under Kefka, there was still progress to be made before the quality of life would match that prior to what was now euphemistically called "The Interregnum" or "The Fall." Cyan stayed away, in a show of protest over Vector's tariff policies and Figaro's management of the reconquest of Narshe. Celes and Edgar chatted comfortably and danced together. Cynical commentators thought they might be making a show of friendliness and solidarity to send a message to Doma; Celes admitted to Terra that they had simply become close after a year of working together on trade agreements and international law. She also called her feelings for Locke as "a crush," in the past tense, and spoke of Edgar in glowing terms. 

At the third anniversary, Celes and Edgar announced their engagement. Society columnists cooed over the "royal romance," and historians would later speak of dynastic marriages and alliances. While the announcement had been carefully timed and planned, and the courtship had not been the fairy tale they spun for the press, the engagement was genuine, as was the happiness in Celes's eyes and the smile Edgar wore all evening. Edgar had made concessions in the effort to reclaim Narshe, and thus appeased, Cyan attended the ball and gruffly wished the couple well. Locke showed also, sincerely wished them the best, and then slipped off to a balcony to "get some air." Edgar followed, worried that his friend was concealing his distress, but Locke really had only wanted to get some air. He seemed genuinely puzzled at the suggestion that he might have been upset, simply repeating that Edgar was a lucky man and Celes seemed very happy. The men spoke for some time, until they were joined by Terra; the three chatted a bit longer, then Edgar took his leave. The pair were seen talking on the balcony for several hours, although they emerged in time to share the last dance. 

A week after her engagement was formally celebrated, Celes announced her intention of dissolving the provisional government and holding elections. A month's frantic preparation followed, the elections were held without incident, and a month after that a new President was sworn in: the former Archduchess of Albrook, now President Elisabeth Markham. She had once been eighth in line for the throne, until she returned from a taking the waters in Jidoor to find her manor occupied by Imperial soldiers, her cousins' bodies hanging from a gibbet in the town square, and a blonde teenager demanding her concession of all rights to the throne. Her dignity in surrender had impressed her would-be subjects, and she was certainly not unfamiliar with the structures of power. The blonde, no longer a teenager but still favoring trousers, bowed to her at the Inaugural Ball and apologized to her privately. She was later revered as one of Vector's best presidents, though if you had asked her she would have pointed out that they had little basis for comparison at that point. 

Celes and Edgar had hoped to wed on the fourth anniversary, but the wedding arrangements could not be completed in time. It was all for the best, they later said among their friends; to hold the wedding on such a day almost seemed self-centered, like trying to claim the date as their own. Edgar admitted, to Locke and Sabin, that he had suggested a small, private ceremony on the holiday, then the public wedding as scheduled, but the Chancellor would not hear of it. The annual celebration passed without incident, although it was becoming less a commemoration of Kefka's defeat and more a diplomatic event - Doma sent an ambassador, as Cyan had never really cared for frivolity. The "private individuals" eventually migrated to the gardens. Sabin, although technically Crown Prince, had no official duties. Locke was building a reputation as an archeologist, but had stayed well away from government since his ill-fated stay on the General's guard. Terra was, officially, a mayor, but the tiny settlement at Mobliz was still ruled by direct democracy, and she still shied away from public functions. She was far more comfortable directing the finances and agricultural development of Mobliz. Gau's education had improved his command of language, but he would never move in the highest circles, at least in part by choice. He was most comfortable on the Veldt, where he acted as a game warden of sorts. The parks services throughout the world were created in part by his suggestion, although Sabin was the one who championed the idea publicly. 

Everyone turned up for the wedding three months later, however. Celes had neatly sidestepped a court controversy by appointing Terra her maid of honor - no one could argue with that, although a few of the potential contenders thought it unfair. Gau appeared in formal wear, glaring daggers at Sabin for arranging it. Setzer had Maria on his arm, and she kept shooting jealous glances at the bride when she thought no one was looking. The rest of the party attended as well, even a small contingent of moogles with Mog in the lead. Historians and social columnists wrote in great detail about the elaborate gown, the ceremony, the rings, the coronation the next week, the festivities and parades and fireworks and dancing. Historians did not take much notice of the archeologist and the green-haired beauty spending quite a bit of time together, although society reporters did. Even they were more interested in Setzer and Maria, however; Locke and Terra were only famous for the fight against Kefka, but _everyone_ knew of the rich gambler with the airship and the world's most famous diva. 

Even society reporters couldn't be bothered to note that Locke chose the Serpent Trench for his next excavation. It merited a brief paragraph in a few papers, but everyone who cared - namely, scholars, Locke, Terra, and their friends - already knew. 

The reclamation of Narshe was finally completed, four months after the royal wedding. Settlers moved back into the city, and coal mining recommenced. A worldwide census revealed that the population was actually rising, promising news for all. The population seemed likely to rise by one more; rumors suggested that Queen Celes was pregnant. In news that really only mattered in Doma, the late King's sister stepped forward. She had married against her brother's wishes and was disinherited as a result, but that mattered less now that her brother and all the other heirs were dead. Her husband had died when the Light of Judgment struck Tzen, but she and her son had survived. The boy was to be educated in accordance with Doman customs, and the gloomy mood that had enveloped the entire kingdom since their defeat at Kefka's hands, finally lightened with the news that the dynasty had not, in fact, died out. 

"We simply value our royalty!" Cyan protested irritably at the private gathering held on the fifth anniversary. Soon the good-natured teasing found another target, as Celes told the group, in strict secrecy, that she was pregnant now, although rumor had jumped the gun by a few months. Edgar just beamed for several hours continuously. Sabin kept elbowing him and making cracks about virility, then coughing whenever Celes looked at them. It seemed to amuse the three of them, at any rate. The serving girl noted that Locke and Terra held hands under the table; rumor turned this into one bed unslept-in and one showing signs of vigorous activity. Both of them vehemently denied it at the time, but it was some of the most entertaining gossip about the dashing adventurer since the time when he was thought to be pining after the queen-to-be, so it persisted, even making it into a few tabloids as a blind item. 

History would record Locke and Terra's marriage, some three years after the birth of Crown Prince Leo, as a footnote. After all, they were in no rush to produce an heir. History would suspect that the marriage of Figaro's monarch to a former Imperial general and Returner collaborator was a deliberately symbolic gesture. Some historians liked to believe the reports of their happiness, but most thought such a thing too good to be true. Of course, the reports of the happiness did not contain mention of their quarrels, of the hurt feelings, of the way Celes went icy when angry and he yelled, and how neither of them could understand the other's way of fighting. Very few of us knew about that; I only heard of it secondhand. Anyone who saw them together knew that they were happy, but no happiness is perfect. History would also note that they were two extraordinary individuals, in tones that suggested that it was difficult to believe that such extraordinariness could even exist. 

History would suggest that Cyan Garamonde maintained his influence over the young king of Doma until his death, and present him as a bit of a grey eminence, although most who knew him would have found such theories laughable. He wanted only to be loyal to something, an urge I can understand only too well. Sabin, Gau, and Strago all disappeared into the mists of time; Sabin's name is known, of course, but the date of his death is long since forgotten. Redundant heirs seldom make it into the books until they foment rebellions, and he had no wish to do that. Locke Cole's name is only learned in certain specialized classes; his student Henrick Eisen is remembered as "the father of modern archeology," but his own reputation as a treasure hunter outlived the memory of his contributions to the science. The man who called himself Baram lived and died peacefully in Tzen, taking a job on the police force after he left the general's guard. Relm Arrowny scarcely needs mentioning. Who doesn't know of her work, however superficially? But needless to say, no one mentions Gogo. Just as well, I suppose. I always did try to blend in. 


End file.
